


Eff You and Your Internet Nonsense

by literatiruinedme



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, youtubers au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 13:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5829970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literatiruinedme/pseuds/literatiruinedme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of one-shots following youtubers Emma Swan and Killian Jones and the many shenanigans they get up to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Lips are Chapped, Kiss Me so I can Steal Your Chapstick

“Hey, Killian?”  
“Yeah,” he called from down the hall.  
“You want to do the Chapstick challenge?”  
There was a loud bang followed by a few smaller ones and what sounded like a pot lid spinning until it lay flat. She looked up from her laptop as he walked towards her room.  
“Do I want to do _what_?” He asked, walking through the room and taking a seat on the edge of her bed.  
She shrugged, sliding her laptop off to the side. “I don’t know, it could be fun.”  
He chuckled, the small amount of tension in his shoulders melting away. “I doubt kissing you wouldn’t be fun.”  
“Then do you want to?”  
He frowned, looking down at her duvet. “Wouldn’t that,” he sighed. “I don’t know, wouldn’t that make things weird between us?”  
“We’ve been friends for how long now?”  
“You have a point,” he nodded. “I guess.”  
“So,” she trailed off waiting for his response.  
He nodded again. “Let’s do it.”  
“Yay,” she cheered, launching herself at him in a hug.  
He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her and rested his chin on her head. “Do you already have different flavours of Chapstick or do we need to go out and buy some?”  
She pulled back, one brow raised. “You doubt me, I’m wounded.”  
He rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”  
“Ridiculously adorable,” she teased, winking at him.  


* * *

She leaned forward, pressing record on her camera. “Hello, people of the Internet! Today I have a very special treat-”  
Killian popped his head into the frame and waved, taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to Emma. “Hello.”  
“My very good friend and flatmate, Killian, will be joining me for today’s video.”  
“How exciting,” he chimed in, making her raise a brow. He turned to face her. “What?”  
“You’re such a loser,” she chuckled, reaching out of frame for a handful of Chapstick tubes.  
He threw an arm around her shoulders and leaned over to press a kiss to her temple. “I may be a loser, but I’m your favourite loser.”  
She scrunched her nose. “Debatable.”  
“Fine,” he pulled away from her, hands raised in surrender. “I guess you’ll just have to find someone else to do your video with.”  
Before he could move, she grabbed his right hand and held it tightly in her own. She turned back to the camera without another word and held up a fistful of Chapsticks. “Killian and I are going to be attempting the Chapstick challenge because I don’t have any other friends.”  
“You have plenty of other friends,” he scoffed. “And even more of them that would be willing to kiss you.”  
“I-”  
“She just wants to kiss _me_ ,” he interrupted, turning towards the camera.  
She rolled her eyes. “The main point of the game is to guess the flavour the other person is wearing and the person guessing is blindfolded.”  
He nodded, holding up a blue tie. “You want to go first?”  
She shrugged. “Why not?”  
He leaned forward and wrapped the tie over her eyes. “Tight enough?” He asked, pulling the fabric taut.  
She nodded. “If I didn’t share a wall with you I’d be concerned with how well you tied this.”  
“Why?” He asked, brows furrowed.  
“I don’t know what kind of kinky shit you’re into,” she teased.  
He raised a brow, turning toward the camera with a smirk on his lips.  
“Stop that,” she said, playfully slapping his knee.  
“Stop what?” He asked, waving his hands in front of the tie to make sure she couldn’t see anything.  
“You always smirk at the camera.”  
He could guess that she’d rolled her eyes. “Do not,” he muttered, picking up the first tube of Chapstick. _Classic cherry_. He run it over his lips and leaned closer to her. “Ready?”  
She nodded.  
He took her hands in his and slowly pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft, his lips gliding over hers. His eyes closed before she pulled away.  
She frowned, rubbing her lips together. “I don’t-” She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and pulled her hands from his. She cupped his face in her hands and closed the space between them once again. Her lips slid over his, a sound of recognition vibrating against his lips.  
He instinctively chased after her lips when she pulled away, her face still inches from his.  
She giggled, her breath fanning over his face. “Is that cherry?”  
He hummed in response, red rising over his cheeks. “Yes.” He opened his eyes and backed away quickly when her hands rose above her head.  
“Yeah,” she cheered. “One for one!”  
He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re so easily excitable, Swan.”  
She shrugged, oblivious to his rummaging through the rest of the Chapstick lying on the bed between them. “It’s the little victories.”  
“True,” he nodded, picking up another tube. _Candy cane_. “How-” he paused, looking at the flavour again. “How old are these?”  
She shrugged. “Not sure. But Chapstick doesn’t go bad.”  
“You sure?”  
“Yeah,” she nodded. Her brows furrowed after a moment. “Why?”  
“I just picked up candy cane and I’m honestly not sure how many Christmases this has suffered through,” he frowned, shaking his head.  
She sighed, reaching forward and picking up a random lip balm. “This okay?”  
He cocked his head to the side. _Sweet peach_. “This’ll work.” He uncapped the balm and ran it over his lips. “Lean forward,” he instructed, taking her hand again.  
She sighed, leaning towards him. She brought her free hand up to the back of his neck and pulled him towards her. “Close your eyes,” she teased.  
His breath caught in his throat when her lips pressed to his again. His free hand went to her side, his fingers splayed over her shirt and the strip of skin at her waist not covered by her vest top. He pulled his hand from hers and brought it to her back, pulling her closer to him.  
She gasped at his sudden movement, her body relaxing when he dug his fingers into her side and her back. “Easy tiger,” she teased, pulling away.  
He chuckled, leaning forward again to press his lips to hers again in a chaste kiss. “Sorry.”  
“Peach.”  
“What?”  
“You’re wearing peach Chapstick,” she explained.  
His eyes popped open. “Oh.” He’d nearly forgotten. “Yes,” he nodded.  
“I’m going to win,” she sang, dancing in her seat.  
He shook his head, reaching down to look through the pile again. He picked up one at random, _wild acai berry_. “That’s a no,” he mumbled, tossing it off to the side.  
“What’s wrong with it?”  
“I can’t even pronounce that one,” he chuckled. “You won’t get it.”  
“You don’t believe in me?”  
“It’s A-C-A-I berry,” he deadpanned. “Can you pronounce it?”  
She frowned again. “No.”  
“That’s what I thought,” he sighed, picking up another random flavour. _Moisturiser vanilla mint_. Seemed nice enough. He applied it and leaned forward again, his lips a hair’s width away from hers. “Last one.”  
She wrapped her arms around his neck, catching him off guard. She leaned forward, her nose brushed the side of his cheek just before her lips pressed to his.  
His eyes slid shut and his shoulders dropped. He ignored his heart pounding against his ribs and prayed that she couldn’t feel it against her chest.  
She bit his bottom lip, drawing a gasp from his lips. A grin spread across her lips. “Mint vanilla.”  
He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly at the sudden change in mood. “Close,” he said, his voice coming out breathless and desperate.  
“What was it?”  
“Vanilla mint,” he smirked.  
She let go of him and leaned back, arms across her chest. “You’re annoying and I’m three for three, your turn.” She pulled the blindfold from her head and untied the knot.  
He wiped the Chapstick from his lips and rested his elbows on his knees, waiting for her to cover his eyes.  
She leaned onto her knees and wrapped his tie around his head. She towered over him as she tied the knot, careful of catching his hair. “Can you see anything?”  
He felt her lean back into her original position and shook his head. “Absolutely nothing.”  
“Okay,” she said.  
He heard plastic clicking against itself as she looked through the pile. He smiled at the happy noise she made when she - presumably - found whatever flavour she was searching for. He heard the quiet _pop_ as she opened and closed the Chapstick before a quiet rustling.  
She rested her hands on his shoulders, scaring him a tiny bit. “Did you just jump?”  
“What? No. I- I-”  
“You jumped,” she chuckled. “I scared you.” She laughed, leaning forward to press her lips to his.  
“Did not,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes.  
She chuckled, pressing her lips to his again. Her hands slowly slid up his neck, tangling in his hair. She groaned when he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him. “Sorry,” her voice sounded breathless to his ears. She smiled again when he leaned forward, ignoring her apology.  
He pulled back after a moment. “I can’t-” he pressed his lips to hers again. He slid his tongue across her lower lip, his brows furrowing when he only tasted one flavour. “Did you just put on the vanilla mint again?”  
“No,” she said.  
He frowned, pressing his lips to hers again. He pulled back, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “What flavour is that?”  
“Classic.”  
“Classic doesn’t taste like anything,” he frowned, cocking his head to the side.  
“I know.”  
He could hear the smirk in her voice. “Why would you-” he paused. “So this _was_ an excuse to kiss me!”  
“Maybe,” she teased, pressing her lips to his again. She pulled away and reached up to cup his face in her hands.  
He wrapped his arms around her waist as she knelt on the bed. He tilted his face up at her, ignoring the fact that he still couldn’t see her. He smiled when she carefully pressed her lips to his again.  
She let go of his face, reaching up to untie his blindfold. She leaned back after finally pulling the fabric away from his face  
His lips chased after hers, eyes still closed. They fluttered open when he heard her giggle again.  
“I’d say that _you_ do like kissing _me_ ,” she teased, wrapping her arms around his neck again.  
“Very much so,” he nodded, smiling up at her. “I think I could do it all day if you let me.”  
She bit her lip in an attempt to hide her smile. “We have to close the video.”  
“Not necessarily,” he shrugged.  
“Killian,” she said, one brow raised.  
“Fine,” he sighed, letting go of her waist.

* * *

She quickly ran through her goodbyes, urging viewers to _give it a like if you’d like_ , and asking them to subscribe and leave comments on what they’d like to see in her next video. As soon as she reached up and shut off her camera he pulled her back onto her bed, a surprised shriek escaping her lips.  
He leaned up on his elbow, a small smile on his lips as he looked down at her.  
“What?”  
He didn’t say anything, just drank her in. Her smile and kiss bitten lips, her hair fanned out around her on her duvet.  
“Killian,” she chuckled, dragging him from his trance. “You’re staring.”  
“Sorry,” he blushed, biting his lip. “Would you like to accompany me to dinner tonight?”  
She nodded, a smile on her lips. “I’d love to.”  
He leaned forward, a grin on his face. “Can I kiss you?”  
She rolled her eyes and reached up to grab his neck, pulling his lips against hers.


	2. All’s Fair in Love and Online Taunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aka I'm sorry I didn't post this first.  
> Sorry for portraying that I was halfway decent.

He used Twitter often. He had a large following and it was not unlike Killian Jones to cause trouble. She’d had to lecture him on posting photos of her too many times and even though she sometimes contemplated making a recording of her rant _just_ for him, she’d taken a liking to snapchat, much to his dismay, and enjoyed taunting him as if it were her _job_. She supposed it was, in a way.  
But what her job _actually_ was, was creating and editing YouTube videos which she should have been doing instead of browsing the Internet and doing nothing productive.  
She’d put away her laptop when he’d (rather rudely) crawled onto the couch and laid down on top of her.  
He propped himself up on his elbows and leaned his head over the top of her laptop. “Emma,” he whined, making her roll her eyes.  
She shushed him, continuing on with what she was doing (tumblr) and ignoring those stupid puppy dog eyes he gave her when he wanted her attention. “I’m working,” she muttered, attempting to ignore him.  
He frowned, his lip jutting out in a pout. “It’s late.”  
She rolled her eyes again. “Go to bed, I’ll be right in.”  
He raised a brow, a _seriously?_ look on his face.  
“What?”  
“The last time you said that I had to come out at three and physical drag you to bed,” he scoffed. He reached up with one hand and forced her laptop shut, nearly catching her fingers in the process.  
“Hey!”  
“You were on tumblr, I could see the reflection in your glasses,” he rolled his eyes. “And it’s twenty-two-hundred. Time for bed.”  
She frowned, a pout slowly developing on her features. “So?”  
He pulled her laptop from her stomach and rested it on the floor beside them. “So, you need sleep.”  
“But I don’t want to move,” she frowned.  
He sighed. “Five minutes long enough?”  
She nodded, a smile crossing her lips.  
He matched her smile and leaned forward to press a kiss to her lips. He leaned back and rested his head on her chest, his arms wrapping around her waist. “Five minutes,” he yawned.  
“Five minutes,” she echoed, tangling her fingers in his hair.  
He hummed in response, making her chuckle.  
She reached behind her for her phone sat on the couch arm and unlocked it, his snoring already filling the room. _Five minutes my ass_. She launched tumblr again and continued her mundane blogging. She stopped short when a screenshot caught her eye.  
_@KillJones: don’t understand how Emma can sit like this.._  
There was an image of her laying on the couch, entirely horizontal, as she used her laptop attached to the tweet. She wore his shirt and sweatpants and a pair of overly fuzzy socks, ankles crossed and her head propped up on a pillow. Her brows were knit together as she chewed on her thumbnail.  
He’d taken it that day.  
She rolled her eyes at him. She _distinctly_ remembered having many a discussion with him about not posting photos of her without her permission after a very unfortunate chilli incident.  
She sighed, looking through the poster’s tags; _#lol he’s gonna get it on snapchat #i’m cackling_  
She bit back a laugh as she ran through her apps to find the little yellow and white ghost.  
She turned the camera to face him and hit record, the flashlight popping on immediately and illuminating the scene before her, his hair catching the light. She carefully ran her fingers through his hair, pulling her hand away and flipping him off at the last moment. The microphone caught his horrific snoring, the sound loud enough that it could probably wake the dead, even through a recording. She put a black and white filter over the video and typed _reasons I can’t sleep at night_ before setting it as her story.  
She opened Twitter and created a new tweet.  
_@ESwan83: omg @KillJones is so cute in my Snap SNOREy #revengeissurprisinglyloud_  
She locked her phone and shoved it in her sweat pants pocket before finally resigning herself to getting up. “Killian,” she said, poking his shoulder. “Wake up.”  
He groaned, tightening his hold on her and burying his face in her chest.  
“Killian,” she cooed, running her fingers through his hair.  
“I regret my life decisions,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the fabric of her sweater.  
“What’s that?” She chuckled.  
He sighed, tilting his head up to meet her gaze. “Remind me to drag you to bed the next time that I offer we stay here another five minutes.” He yawned, pulling one arm from around her waist to rub the sleep from his eyes. He sighed, resting his head on her chest again.  
“Killian.”  
“I know,” he mumbled making no attempt to move. “Just give me five more minutes.”  
“You’re so annoying,” she sighed. She reached down and violently shook his shoulders. “Killian, let’s go.”  
“Swan,” he groaned. He sloppily reached for her arms, capturing her by her wrists and pinning them above her head. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered, leaning forward to press a kiss to her lips.  
“I need to take my contacts out,” she frowned.  
He yawned again, nodding before finally pushing off of her.  
She took his hand and dragged him towards their bedroom. She crawled into bed next and took off her glasses, depositing them in their usual space on her night stand.  
He slid under the covers next to her and crawled into her outstretched arms. He tugged the blankets high around them and tangled his limbs with hers. “Good night, Emma,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her neck. He threaded his fingers through hers and sighed.  
She was almost sure he’d fallen asleep when he pushed himself up on his elbows. She looked up at him with one brow quirked up.  
“Wait a second,” he said to himself. “You were wearing glasses. You lied to me.”  
She shrugged. “You caught me. Now,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him back down towards her. “Go to sleep. You look exhausted.”  
“Thanks,” he chuckled.  
She rolled her eyes. “Good night.”  
He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Good night.”  


* * *

The next morning she awoke to the sound of Killian speaking to himself. It took her a few moments to process what was going on when he sat down next to her.  
“Who do you think snores louder?” He asked his camera. He crossed the room and sat down next to her, his back propped up against the headboard. “I don’t know but seeing as you’ve heard Emma here now I think we all know who’s _really_ louder.” He reached over her and placed a mug of coffee on her nightstand.  
“You brought me coffee?”  
He nodded, leaning his face closer to hers.  
She chuckled, reaching up to cup his cheeks. She leaned up, pulling his face towards hers. “You’re the best,” she mumbled, kissing his lips.  
“Thank you,” he smiled, leaning up to kiss her nose.  
“So,” she yawned, resting her head on his shoulder. “What’re you doing?”  
“Vlogging,” he shrugged.  
“Why are you filming at-” she turned to look at the time on her phone. “Eight-thirty?”  
“Your snapchat.”  
“You brought that on yourself,” she muttered, turning away from him.  
“Ah, yes,” he nodded. “The Twitter photo.”  
She shrugged. “An eye for an eye, babe.”  
He chuckled, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. “So you say,” he yawned, shutting the viewfinder. He powered his camera off and leaned across her to put it down next to her coffee mug.  
“You brought me coffee and now you’re going back to bed?” She asked, turning to face him.  
He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close to him. “I’m still thoroughly exhausted from yesterday’s activities,” he mocked, brows raised.  
“We spent all day alternating between the couch and the arm chair,” she rolled her eyes. She cut him off when he opened his mouth to speak. “And when I say that I don’t mean what you’re thinking of.”  
“I’m just teasing, Emma,” he chuckled.  
“I know,” she yawned, leaning up to place a kiss to his jawline. “Now, go back to sleep.”  
“Yes, love,” he sighed.  
She smiled, nuzzling her face into his chest, the prickle of his unshaved scruff catching in her hair and tickling her cheek.


	3. What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

The video opened on the two of them, both leaning against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of them. He cleared his throat.  
“You okay?” She asked. She’d rested her hand on his neck, slowly running her thumb back and forth over his jawline.  
He nodded, reaching up to take her hand. He carefully brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “A little stuck on the cold I had, is all.”  
“Ew,” she teased, wrinkling her nose. “Get your germs away from me.”  
He leaned forward and kissed her nose, smiling as he pulled away.  
She smiled, nudging his shoulder with her own. “Don’t forget you have your tea,” she reminded him, pointing towards the white and blue antique-looking mug on his night stand.  
“I’m okay,” he smiled. “Ready?” He sniffed, readjusting where his guitar lay.  
“Yeah,” she said happily.  
“Ready?”  
“Yeah,” she repeated, leaning her head on his shoulder.  
“Ready?”  
“Start singing before I leave,” she teased, craning her neck to look at him.  
“If the lady insists,” he sighed melodramatically. He smiled when she leaned her head back on his shoulder. He carefully strummed his guitar to the tune of the song. “ _Maybe it’s much too early in the game, ah, but I thought I’d ask you just the same, what are you doing New Year’s, New Year’s Eve?_ ”  
She leaned her head off of his shoulder and sat up straight. “ _Who’s gonna be the one to hold you tight, when it’s exactly twelve o'clock at night, welcoming in the new year, New Year’s Eve_?”  
He sat up, raising a brow at her. “ _Maybe I’m crazy, to suppose I’d ever be the one that you chose, out of the thousand invitations_ -”  
She hummed along before singing with him. “ _You’ve received? Oh, but in case I stand one little chance, here comes the jackpot question in advance: what are you doing New Year’s, New Year’s Eve_?”  
He played the last verse and looked up at her when he’d finished, a smile on his lips and a brow raised.  
She giggled, leaning forward to put her hands on his cheeks and press a kiss to his lips. “Down on the third try,” she sighed.  
“The song or the kiss?” He raised a brow.  
She rolled her eyes and leaned back against the headboard. “We did well.”  
He hummed in recognition as he put his guitar off to the side. “Third time’s the charm.”  
There was a jump cut to them both sitting on the edge of the bed, inches apart. “Hello internet,” he waved at the camera. “Thank you for watching this lovely song sung by my equally lovely girlfriend, Emma, and myself.”  
She waved at the camera. “Hello.”  
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “She does stuff on her channel. Go subscribe.”  
“Stuff?” She asked melodramatically. “I do more than just _stuff_. That all my channel is to you? A _stuff_ channel?”  
He rolled his eyes. “Would you like to list everything that you do?”  
“I sing, play video games, and rant,” she paused. “I don’t do that much.”  
“Don’t forget the Q &A’s, travel vlogs, normal vlog, DIYs, makeup videos, and _prank videos_ ,” he reminded her.  
“Vlogs are for second channels,” she said knowingly. “And the prank video was a one time thing,” she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “ _And_ the whole thing was orchestrated by Victor.”  
“You almost knocked me unconscious with a bucket of water.”  
“It wasn’t on purpose,” she defended.  
“I had to go to the hospital,” he scoffed.  
“It was an accident,” she frowned, sinking deeper into her seat.  
“I know.”  
She stayed quiet for a minute before laughing to herself. “That’s my highest viewed video.”  
He rolled his eyes again. “You’re insufferable.”  
She smiled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Stop pouting.”  
The ending car played, his last video and the video on her channel ran side by side, silent apart from the cheery music that normally played. His social media was written out underneath in dark blue against his light blue background.  
The screen faded black before another clip of them came up. They both lay back against the headboard, his arm around her shoulder and her head on his. “What’re you doing?” She asked, knocking his foot with hers.  
He moved where her sweater hung on her shoulder. “Fixing your sweater thing,” he said absentmindedly as he pushed the fabric back and forth until he was satisfied with where it hung.  
“Sweater thing?” She chuckled, taking his hand and pulling it down to tangle with hers in her lap.  
“Doesn’t it have some fancy name?”  
“No,” she laughed again. “Why would it?”  
“Because it opens in the front or some nonsense,” he shrugged.  
She thought a moment as he looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Well,” she sighed. “You’re not wrong.”  
He chortled, letting his eyes wander towards the floor. “Swan?”  
“Yeah,” she sighed, looking up at him.  
“What are you doing New Year’s Eve?”  
She moved her head from his shoulder as she doubled over with laugher. “That’s so dumb,” she said, holding her stomach.  
He grinned as he leaned forward to shut off the camera.  
A final shot of them came up, he sighed, leaning his head on her shoulder.  
“You’re supposed to be playing your guitar right now,” she reminded him.  
“I don’t feel like it,” he said, taking her hand in his.  
“Then this is a very stupid collab,” she scoffed.  
“You’re a stupid collab,” he frowned.  
“Are you pouting?”  
“No,” he lied.  
“Oh my god,” she laughed. “You’re pouting.”  
“Stop it,” he said, picking his guitar up and getting ready to play. “Shut up and look like you like me.”  
“Look like?” She gasped in mock-horror. “There’s no acting here.”  
He looked towards the camera, brow raised and a smirk on his lips.  
She reached forward and flicked his ear.

* * *

She lay on her side, her body pressed to his side, one arm resting midway across his stomach while his arm was wrapped around her shoulders, laptop perched on his thighs. It was a brief video, only about two minutes long, but he’d been at it since sometime during her nap.  
“Killian,” she yawned.  
“Yes?” He didn’t look at her, eyes still focused on the screen.  
“Put the laptop down,” she said, her voice muffled by his shirt. She let her eyes droop closed. “It’s time for bed.”  
“But I-”  
“It’s past midnight,” she interrupted. “Please, we both need sleep.”  
“Alright,” he sighed. He closed his laptop and put it down on his night stand. “Why are you still awake?”  
She shrugged, shuffling down the pillows to where the bed was more horizontal. “Didn’t want you to have to stay up by yourself.”  
“You’re sick.”  
“Rude.”  
“No,” he chuckled. “I mean you’re literally sick.”  
“Your fault,” she sniffed.  
He shuffled down the bed next to her, holding her tight. “Go to bed.” He combed his fingers through her hair and pressed a kiss to her forehead.  
She nodded. “Good night, Killian.”  
“Good night, Emma.”


End file.
